


Baby Don't Worry

by Nitzer



Series: pre and post [1]
Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, a reasonable amount of crying, but like kinda light on the comfort tbh, like the briefest and barest allusions to suicide, still kind of mildly optimistic?, taehyun's mental illness makes an appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:10:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitzer/pseuds/Nitzer
Summary: It's Taehyun's last night in the Winner dorms and Yoon is trying desperately to make it not feel like the last. Taehyun is numb.





	Baby Don't Worry

**Author's Note:**

> this was just called "empty" at first but the title is still from "Empty" by Winner  
> this (like everything else i write for Winner tbh) was mostly for me bc i never run out of things to say about Winner and Taehyun  
> this is heavier on the mental illness stuff than the other things i have written for Winner and there is a very very vague allusion to suicide so like proceed with caution?

Yoon tried his damndest to make this not feel like the last time. It’s kind of a lost cause, though. I know it’s the last time, I was the one who decided on tonight. He knows too. And that’s why he’s in my bed and not in his room with Jinwoo. We all know. Probably sometime after the other members leave for the office in the morning, I’ll leave for good. All my stuff is already packed neatly into two suitcases. The cats are already with my mom. I’m not just going, I’m really already gone.

Yoon never asks me to stay. He never tried to sway me in anyway. He puffs out his chest and digs up all of his leader determination to get me what I want, whatever it is. Even when it’s leaving. He doesn’t see the end of Winner-with-Taehyun as the end of Taehyun-and-Seungyoon, though. I can’t say if he’s right or wrong. I can’t visualize any kind of future after this. Debut was the end goal for me. Leaving was never in the cards at all. Leaving after barely two years is unimaginable. Yoon isn’t in the cards either, at all, in any capacity. I never imagine a leader like Yoon—I never imagine a _person_ like Yoon. I never imagine anyone spending all of my worst nights with me. I never imagine tender, feather-light kisses and bright smiles. But here he is, curled up in my empty room with me, pretending that this isn’t the last time.

“It’s not over.” He murmurs comfortingly, his hand gently cupped over my cheek (which has lost all of its playful, maknae fullness over the last few months of hell). He’s facing me, our legs intertwined, soft and overwhelming affection clouding his eyes. He’s been awake as long as I have (too, too long) but I suppose it doesn’t matter because Winner’s future is just as unclear and uncertain as mine. There’s no comeback to prepare for, no tracks to record, no dance to perfect. “Nothing’s over.” His voice is warm and deep and _comforting_ above all else. But it sounds like he’s rooms away, muffled by walls. I rub a slow circle into the back of his hand and don’t say anything.

I can’t—not coherently, not honestly at least. I don’t know what’s over here. I probably won’t know what ends here for years. Maybe Winner ends tonight. Maybe Taehyun-and-Yoon ends here. Maybe some version of Taehyun dies here tonight. But Taehyun-with-Winner or Winner-with-Taehyun or whatever it is absolutely dies tonight. There is no going back once you leave like this. There’s no precedent to follow, no one’s ever made it back, no one’s ever wanted to come back. This isn’t a medical hiatus anymore (this probably never should’ve been a “medical hiatus” like it was something to cure). This, at least, can be just for me, instead of putting the whole group on hiatus when I start shaking too bad to reliably hold a microphone. Something is over here for good. I just can’t say what—can’t say anything at all because Yoon has always been a kind of escapist comfort anyway.

“I’ll still be right here.” He promises.

But it’s such an easy promise to break. My stuff is already neatly packed into two suitcases. This is the last night. He physically won’t be there anymore. He’ll be here or whatever dorm the company moves them to and I’ll go back mom’s house with my brother again. And this time my brother will be chasing the dream I caught and turned my back on. It stings to think of it that way. It’s hard to feel like anything other than a failure having to leave the one thing I always wanted. It’s hard to feel much of anything anymore though, everything feels like it comes from rooms away, muffled by walls. There’s nothing certain after this. There’s no goal. The end point was debut. I was settled and comfortable, making music like I always wanted to but I threw myself back into the void of uncertainty.

There wasn’t much of a choice, though. I couldn’t survive here. It was so obvious that even the company that only looked at us when a new MV dropped took notice. Taehyun-with-Winner couldn’t survive. It was either leave or die. And I knew. And Yoon probably knew too. I was sure I’d said something like “if I stay, I’ll die,” to Yoon back when I could still feel emotions with clarity. When my blood was buzzing and my brain was so full I had to let something loose or I might burst. Maybe that’s why he’s never tried to tell me to stay. Either way, everything left in my heart is only halves and pieces at this point and I can’t even tell if I want him to try to get me to stay.

The one thing I do know for sure is that Yoon is too much. He always has been. He’s too bright, too loud, too obvious, can’t reign anything in. He’s a bright light tearing through your eyelids at midnight. He’s the first rays of sun the morning of a hangover. He’s boiling hot takeout coffee from the convenience store. But I still feel the warmth of his hand on my cheek, faintly, vaguely. And if Yoon wasn’t always too hot, too loud, too bright maybe I wouldn’t be feeling anything at all. (He was too kind too, spending the whole night with me like this.)

“Nothing’s ever over until you’re dead.” It’s mostly a sweet nothing he’s whispering at this point. He just wants to be here for me, I know. I know I haven’t been receptive. I know I haven’t been sleeping. I know I’ve been non-verbal and uncooperative and miserable to be around.

It gets a broken and mirthless laugh out of me, though. It’s the choice of words mostly. Because it _has_ to be over or I’ll be dead. My eyes are blood-shot and glassy. They’ve just been open too long not sleeping and all. Emotionless tears leak down my face on both sides.

Yoon’s face splits into a near-desperate grin and he laughs with me, gently swiping his thumb over my tear tracks. I can see that he knows I’m not really happy, that I’m not really doing any better. It’s just been so long, I guess, since I’ve expressed anything at all really. He cradles my face like I’m really something precious, like I’m something breakable instead of broken. “I really love you, you know?” He laughs. And maybe it’s not the first time he’s said it. Maybe it’s the millionth. But it’s the first time he’s said it like _this_. And that’s what makes it feel like the last time really.

I press and soft and passionless kiss to his lips. It is not breathtaking or life-changing. It’s probably the worst kiss we’ve ever shared, my lips barely part against his. But he holds it and I hold and he breathes me in and he keeps me close. Nothing stirs inside of me, I’m still numb—empty—but I feel his lips and his hands and his love. And everything is still muted, muffled, at least rooms away but I still feel it because he’s the warmest, the brightest, the most loving person I’ll ever meet. And he’s never been able to tone things down. Even when I flinch at every sound and sudden movement. He’s the only one I can feel, the only one that can get anything out of me anymore though.

“I love you too.” It doesn’t sound like Yoon’s. It barely carries in the silent room. It’s robotic and hollow and I _hear_ it but I’m really trying. I’m trying my best.

“I know.” And Yoon’s crying too, tears streaming down around his still-present sunny smile. “I know you do, baby. I know.” He repeats and we’re closer than we’ve been all night. And it’s the last night and we all know something dies here tonight.

And so it does. Taehyun-with-Winner (or Winner-with-Taehyun or whatever it is) dies with the sunrise but Taehyun, Nam Taehyun does not. Nam Taehyun wakes up in the tight hold of Kang Seungyoon and the weak sunlight of the early morning only hurts half as much as watching Yoon cry. And whatever else dies that night isn’t as pressing anymore, isn’t as scary. Because I have to care for what lives.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](angelinmyheartt.tumblr.com) [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Nitzer) for some of the things that lived


End file.
